


Long Gone

by decreasethesurpluspopulation



Series: Making A Change [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Castiel, Angst, M/M, No Smut, Omigoodness, Sad Castiel/Dean Winchester, Unresolved Tension, only pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 05:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10405323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decreasethesurpluspopulation/pseuds/decreasethesurpluspopulation
Summary: What happened that started this whole thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was actually the easiest out of all parts so far to write, probably because this was what I had first thought of, and then I kinda built all the other parts around it.   
> It was also the hardest, because it hurt. A lot. I'm a little upset with myself, not gonna lie.  
> Anyway, there will be more to come.

Castiel slips out of bed and goes out to the hall as soon as he hears the door shut. Being that he woke up alone, when he obviously did not fall asleep alone, and that the keys to the Impala are gone, he feels safe to venture a guess that Dean has just left.   
He immediately dismisses the idea that Dean has left for good. Castiel can’t fathom that right now, and would rather believe that Dean’s merely taking some time to separate himself from whatever he feels has happened.   
Despite that rationality, Castiel can’t help wondering why and asking a thousand questions at once, wondering what happened and what went wrong or what he did to make Dean react as he did last night or why was he’s left so strangely this morning and et cetera. It’s all very overwhelming and the only thing he wants, second to Dean, of course, is something that he knows isn’t worth it. He promised he would stay sober for as long as Dean will have him, and so he will.   
Now, Castiel isn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He goes back to their room and dresses in some comfortable clothes. Usually, he’d be glad to not have to go to work today, but at the moment he wishes he had something to do.   
He goes again to the living room, for no other reason than to look around the apartment, their apartment, for some reason feeling as though a great deal of things are about to change. It makes him feel deeply sentimental, and he can’t place why. He goes back to their bed and lays down, knowing that sleep is far out of the realm of possibility, but hoping that he can at least delay the long, inevitable day for an hour or so. All he wants to do is chase Dean down, though he knows he’s already long gone.   
Somehow, Castiel does manage to fall into a light, tense sleep, after a couple hours of torturing himself with his thoughts. 

He wakes when he feels a sudden weight on the bed next to him. Knowing it’s Dean, he fights his body’s reaction to tense up, and strives to keep his breathing measured and deep. He’s not sure why he’s still pretending he’s asleep but he has this terrible heavy feeling in his stomach.   
There’s a strange stillness in the room, a tension that does nothing to soothe his sudden slow-burning panic, but he strains his ears to hear anything from Dean.   
He can feel Dean sitting next to him, the warmth radiating from him, and the gentlest touch of a hand on his hair. He hears the soft shuffle of Dean’s old leather jacket as his arm moves back, and the hand leaves him cold where it once was.   
“Damn it.” Dean whispers thickly, and all Castiel wants is to roll over and demand to know what is going through his beautiful head right now. Because while Castiel can never truly know how or where from Dean’s darker thoughts come, he knows they are a real source of anguish and trouble for him, especially in result of high-intensity emotional situations.   
As if he heard his thoughts, Dean speaks, “I’m gonna go and just get away for awhile, okay? And I don’t want you to blame yourself, and I don’t want you to worry about me, because I’ll be fine.”   
Inside, Castiel is screaming. All he wants is to turn around and kiss this stupid, beautiful man. For some reason, his body is frozen, as if he cannot physically comprehend what is transpiring.   
He waits to hear more, and soon there’s a loud exhale, then, he’s moving off of the bed.  
Castiel holds his breath, trying to identify the noises he’s hearing. When he hears a drawer opening and shutting slowly, his heart starts beating too loud in his ear. After the second time the loud zip of a duffel rings through the room, he can’t take it anymore.   
“Dean, wait.”  
Dean freezes, and a thick silence settles over the room. Castiel sits straight up in the bed, trying to catch Dean’s eyes, but he’s staring stonily at his duffel, as of blaming it for waking Castiel.   
Now that he has stopped, Castiel doesn’t know what it was he wanted to say. He can think only of all of the emotions that he has felt in last few hours of laying here in confused, anxious silence, and the night before, wanting so much to be able to help the man that he loves. To do everything in his power to keep him from hurting. Castiel struggles to organize his thoughts, and in his drowning, takes hold of the first life-preserving emotion he is able to find.   
He opens his mouth, “So you’ve decided to go with the cliche ‘It’s not you, it’s me’, then?”   
“Good, you’re awake.” The stillness in his voice wounds Castiel.   
“And you’re leaving.”  
Dean pauses in his packing, wincing at the accusation that Castiel hadn’t meant to come out. Then, like nothing happened, he continues, his pack mostly full now.  
Sitting more towards the edge of the bed, he avoids looking at Dean’s face. Even as he continues, Castiel knows these are not the words he wanted to say. The last thing he wants is to hurt Dean, but now that he’s started, he can’t seem to do anything other than push forward. “And you’ve chosen to say all this to me while you believed I was sleeping, so that I have no way of trying to reason with you, or stop you-”  
He resumes zipping the bag and stands, both still looking anywhere but at each other. “Then you know why I have to go.”  
He can’t believe that Dean is still preparing to leave. Castiel shakes his head hard, “No, Dean, I only know why you should stay.”   
“Cas, listen-”   
“No, Dean, you should listen.” his voice low, desperate. “I love you. I’ve loved you for so many years, and I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s true. And I am only going to be happy with you. I’m not sure what exactly happened last night,” Dean’s face darkens and his muscles tense as if in pain, but Castiel keeps on, “But if this hasn’t been what you wanted, if I haven’t been what you wanted,” He can feel his breathing quicken at the possibility, the shame and embarrassment and absolute fear at the thought that maybe Dean hadn’t wanted any of this at all, “Please give me a chance to rectify that before you just leave-”   
Castiel’s throat closes up on him then, and Dean rushes to kneel in front him, taking his hands.   
His eyes are wet as he finally meets Castiel’s gaze, “Cas, please. Calm down, okay? I just- I don’t think this is really working for me anymore. I mean, ever since we started, you know, fucking around, it’s been confusing, and I need to figure some shit out for myself. Take some time to think about things. I haven’t been fair with you at all. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”  
“Any harder than it has to be?” Castiel can barely contain his confusion and outrage at himself and Dean and the whole situation. He pushes Dean’s hands away from him, and stands.   
“Was this supposed to be easy? Because you planned on simply getting up and walking away?” Castiel carefully maneuvers himself around Dean to touch him as little as possible, and turns to face him. “Dean Winchester, we have been best friends for longer than we’ve been ‘fucking around’, if that’s what you’d like to call it, and if you won’t give me the goddamn courtesy to break up with me like you have anyone else, then at least act like you care about our lifelong friendship and speak to me before you decide that it isn’t ‘working for you’ anymore.”   
Castiel begins angrily pulling his clothes out of their drawers, taking out enough for a few days, and then changes quickly.   
“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean asks softly.   
He sounds panicked and shocked enough that Castiel almost stops, but he steels himself and begins emptying Dean’s bag, setting the clothes neatly on the bed before replacing them with his own. “I’m borrowing your duffel bag.”  
Dean moves forward, but he flinches away from him so hard and fast that Dean stops, and Castiel refuses to acknowledge the immense pain that flashes across Dean’s face.   
He responds, his voice grating his throat as it leaves him, “Don’t. I won’t entertain anymore of this.” He beings to put on his shoes.   
“I’m saving you the trouble of leaving and doing it myself. You want to break up? Fine. But it isn’t fair for you to have to abandon your brother and your apartment to do so.” He takes his phone from its charger on the desk before opening the bedroom door, resisting the urge to undo everything he’s done as it happens.  
“Cas, stop, you don’t hafta-”   
"If I stay it won't change anything, Dean, will it?"   
With only his silence in response, Castiel turns around, feeling more resigned and hurt than anything anymore.   
“Good-bye, Dean.” With that, he shuts the door behind him and leaves the apartment quickly, before he can run back to Dean and beg to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think, dudes.


End file.
